


Adiago

by A_For_Accidental



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Sally's POV, balletlock, not first person dont worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3648273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_For_Accidental/pseuds/A_For_Accidental
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is acting odd before their performance.<br/>Sally is confused.<br/>Cue internet boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adiago

“What’s wrong with Sherlock, then?”

Anton sighed.“He’s pouting.”

“Again?” Anton nodded. Sally rolled her eyes. “Does anyone know what for?”

“I don’t know, but he checks his phone every five minutes and he’s been watching the crowd like a madman.”

Raising an eyebrow, Sally shot a glance at the counter where Sherlock was furiously applying makeup, scowling into the mirror. Sally groaned as she stood, weaving her way through skirts and not bothering to dodge bursts of hairspray when they hit her head. Better for her hair to be a shell than frizzing up onstage. When she finally reached Sherlock, she grabbed his wrist to still his hand and sat on the stool beside him, tugging the makeup wedge out of his grip and forcing him to sit. “You can’t scowl when you’re doing highlights, dumbarse," she said softly, batting his hands away and ignoring his protests. “Smile.”

Sherlock begrudgingly complied, smiling painfully as Sally swiped a violent shade of pink onto his already makeup-caked cheeks. Stage makeup always was excessive for the idiot, but at least he wouldn’t look like a ghost under the spotlights. “What’s got you in a mood?”

“I’m not in a mood,” Sherlock mumbled, trying not to move.

“Yes you are,” Sally responded, ignoring when Sherlock scowled again. She just stopped and scowled right back until he sighed and smiled again. “You never sulk before a performance, you think your phone is a bother backstage, and you’re always stuck in some corner going over choreography and mapping out the stage or whatever it is you do when you aren’t dancing. Today, you are pouting, and I want to know why.”

With a resigned huff, Sherlock’s expression softened as he flicked his eyes at the mirror. “I’m waiting for someone who won’t show.”

Sally leaned back, dropping the ruined makeup wedge onto the counter. “Then why are you waiting?”

Sherlock almost looked as if he were going to respond when the call for places was shouted into the dressing room, sending the dancers into a flurry of activity. Sherlock jumped up from his stool and straightened the front of his costume, clearing his throat. Sally could see his eyes harden as he went from Backstage-Sherlock to Onstage-Sherlock, completely focused and unwavering. Sighing, Sally shot one more look at the mirror before deeming herself finished and went to join the rest of the _sujets_ , preparing herself for the short amount of time before the orchestra struck it’s first note.

-

-

-

As the curtain fell, Sally released the breath that she was holding, letting her shoulders fall and relax when the dancers scurried offstage and a small cheer went up among the company. A smile was fixed on her face. That show had been nearly flawless--she hadn’t missed a single beat, and even managed to land the _revoltade_ she’d been having trouble with these last few weeks. She’d kept an eye on Sherlock as well, making sure his uncharacteristic moods didn’t affect his dancing too much, which they didn’t. He was perfect, to the audiences eye, but Sally could see how unusually tense he was. As she made her way down to the dressing-room, she purposefully bumped shoulders with the _danseur_ , grinning when he glanced her way and rolled his eyes. They passed through the lobby briefly, watching as some of the dancers were swept into loved one’s arms or chatted idly with higher-ranking guests. Sally thought she heard Sherlock sigh sadly, and she was looking up at him in surprise when a bright voice cut through the crowd. “Sherlock!”

Both dancers spun on their heels, and Sally’s eyes flew wide. A figure stood in the doorway of the lobby, snow caught in strands of dull golden hair and dusting a small bouquet of flowers that were clutched in the man’s hand. He couldn’t have been much older than Sally or Sherlock -- a few years at the most -- and when he smiled his eyes seemed to spark childishly. A startled gasp shook Sally out of her daze and suddenly Sherlock was rocketing past her and all but leaping into the man’s arms.

"Jesus," the man said, laughing breathlessly. "Had I known this is how you'd react, I'd've brought my gear."

Sally could barely hear Sherlock's laugh where it was muffled in the man's shoulder. When the two finally pulled apart, the grins and awed looks on both of the men's faces were enough to make Sally's heart ache. She'd never seen Sherlock so ecstatic -- closest she'd seen him like this was last year when he got one of the leads in _Coppelia_. Right now, it looked like even if Sherlock were offered the world, it wouldn't compare to this.

"Hi," Sherlock said simply.

The other man laughed, stepping back slightly and running a hand through his hair. "Hi," he responded. "I'm John Watson." He held out his hand, the smile on his face growing impossibly further.

Sherlock responded in kind, taking John Watson's hand in his own. "Sherlock Holmes."

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister Holmes." Sherlock rolled his eyes and swatted John Watson's arm as John laughed, sheepishly holding up the bouquet. "I managed to get here before the opening act, but by curtain I realized I didn't have flowers," John Watson explained, gesturing vaguely at the flowers now in Sherlock's hands. Sherlock responded with something Sally couldn't hear, a few mumbled words and a shy glance.

The group in the lobby had since lost interest in the odd couple so suddenly united, but Sally continued to watch even as she accepted her own bouquet and chatted idly with her guests. Sherlock and John Watson appeared to be in their own little world, perfectly content with ignoring the rest of the crowd.

Later, after the makeup had been washed away and the theatre cleared, Sally caught wind that Sherlock had disappeared with his mystery “friend”, telling only Madame Hudson that he was leaving. So, naturally, everyone knew. Sally grinned and tugged out her phone, typing out a quick message.

_Having fun with your prince, Sherlock? --SD_

It wasn’t until Sally was in the cab on her way back to her flat that she got the response that made her grin like an idiot. A slightly blurred photo -- Sherlock’s face completely red and covered with his hands while John leaned against Sherlock’s side, foreheads together and a bright smile plastered on his face as he looked down at Sherlock.

_Yes, he most certainly is. <3 Sherlock’s internet boyfriend --SH _


End file.
